


The Night is Bleeding Like a Cut

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Desperate Coulson, Desperation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hugging, Inhuman Powers, Kissing, More angst, Office Sex, Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 22:43:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2749838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whelp, 02x10 happened.  So here is some angsty frustrated working out of  Skoulson sexual tension that results in more angst.</p><p>Title taken from the U2 song "So Cruel"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night is Bleeding Like a Cut

"He didn't deserve to die like that."

How many times has she said this to herself over the last several days? As though she is somehow responsible?

"He wanted to save you," he replies. "I would've done the same thing. You would have, too."

It was a poor choice of words, her face falls at that. He knows what this is about. She's wearing her jacket, she has the bag in her hand.

" _I'm glad_ you didn't get to me in time," she says, almost angry. "I couldn't have watched..."

Her face falls to the floor, she can't even look at him now.

They're standing in his office. It's been days since they left Puerto Rico behind. Only days, and already she's wanting to bolt.

"Do you really think this is the best way?" he asks. He has to ask, he can't order or demand.

He's being gentle about this, respecting her decision. She wonders if he's really just afraid now. Or if he doubts he can stop her even if he wants to?  Which is it?

Because, she is terrified.

"My father knows how to control his powers. He understands this," she says, biting her lower lip in resignation and looking back up at him again.

"Your father wants to _control you_ ," he says, starting to let his emotions slip loose. "We have access to a network, I can find someone who..."

When he steps closer to her, she backs away. Holds on to her backpack tightly.

"Don't touch me, Coulson."

"You're not going to hurt me, Skye. _I'm not afraid_."

He's lying to her. He must be.  She wants to believe him, but he _is lying_. Why can't he just let her go?

"On purpose? No. I'd never..."

She looks up at the ceiling as a tear runs down her face, and he risks it anyway, reaching to brush it away with his thumb.

" _Coulson_."

She can't say anything else, so he just grabs her. Holds her.

It's so easy for him to hold her like this. Just feel her in his arms, like nothing has changed. She still feels like Skye. They've just survived another mission, even though they've lost so much.

She's safe now. It's going to be okay. They can work this out.

The backpack drops from her hand and her arms slide around his middle.

He doesn't want her to leave him.

"Stay."

She looks up at him, the word hanging between them.

There are tears in his eyes now, too. This thing between them has grown into something else. He would have gone into that chamber with her. He would've died for her. She knows it. She can see it.

The kiss starts out innocently enough.

Instead of sinking into his arms, she puts them around his neck, a familiar gesture. He understands it better now, what she was afraid of happening then. But it's not like last time, she doesn't press her face into his neck.

This time she looks into his eyes and watches him, moving carefully, waiting for him to make some betraying gesture to halt her.

He doesn't, and she presses her mouth against his. He swallows and he can't tell for a moment if it's from fear or desire. His head is somewhere else.

She pulls away to look at his widened eyes, at the wounds on his face healing from where her father had hit him, touching them with her fingers.

She knows she could do _so much worse_.

And he can feel her slipping away now, he can't let go.

It's a kiss fueled by passion and desperation. It's what he gives her. Wanting some kind of answer that keeps escaping them, ever since he's known her.

 _Why?_ Why them? Why her? Why us?

There's a tiny whimpering sound at the back of her throat and he wonders for a moment if he's hurt her, and stops, frowning slightly, listening to her breathe, feeling her heart beating through her chest against him.

His eyes flicker over to the door. They shouldn't do this here.

He walks away, looking down as her eyes follow him and he hesitates for a moment, his hand on the open door. Turning back to her, his eyes travel up from the floor over her, and he sees her there waiting for him, a raise of her chin, impatient, as he closes the door and locks it with a heavy click.

Striding back toward her she pulls him into her arms and kisses him deeply, as he moves with her, walking them back until they're against his desk.

She slides on the top of it, and he settles between her thighs as their mouths move over each other, devouring, after being starved of an expression for these feelings, this intimacy, they've kept hidden for so long.

Fingers are on his tie, starting to take it apart as his hands reach under her shirt at her waist, circling her there, then feeling their way across her ribcage.

She rips the tie away and tosses it on the floor and then pulls his shirt loose from his pants, starts to unbutton it. He kisses her neck, smiles against her skin.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks.

"Yes. _I want you_."

He pulls her against him, holding onto her by her hips. He wants her, too. More contact. More everything.

She manages to get his dress shirt off and she slides it off his arms, and when he's undone the button of her jeans, he works his hand beneath the fabric, too fast and needy and desperate, and her hips lift off the desk as he pulls her jeans down.

His hand presses over her through her underwear, then makes soft circles.

"Dammit, Coulson," she sighs, pulling at his neck to make his mouth fit over hers again. She's biting at his lip, sliding her tongue against his.

She starts to come undone as he slowly sinks his fingers inside of her.

He just wants to make her feel good. With him. It's all he wants right now. This can be _so good_.

Her breathing hitches, as she holds him closer, kissing his neck and then biting down to get a long, low moan out of him. That sound does something to her, he can feel it, he starts to move his hand faster as she arches. She hums against him when he flicks his fingers, arms straining to hold him to her.

"I love you," he whispers into her ear, as she closes her eyes. So close.

The desk beneath them starts to move. Tremble. Then the ground shifts and objects fall from the shelves.

He stops and pulls away.

She stares at him, just shaking her head. She knew it wasn't going to work.

He knew it, too.

Jumping down off the desk she fixes her clothing so quickly he barely catches it, then pushes past him.

" _Skye_ ," he says, reaching out for her.

She lifts the backpack up off the floor and goes to the door and turns the lock.

Never even looks back at him as the door slams shut behind her.  She can't.  He knows that.

And just like that, she's gone.

When May runs into the office, he's straightening his tie.

"What just happened?" she said, her eyes wide. "There was shaking, and then Skye left. I tried to stop her, but..."

"It's fine, May."

She's looking back at his expression, scrutinizing it. He's a little too cool for something this big.

"What happened?" she asks again, more sternly.

"I screwed up," he confessed. "But, I'll make it better. She just needs time."

"You're too close to this, Phil."

"You're right, May, I am."


End file.
